They Don't Understand
by whirlwinds of watercolours
Summary: All you want is someone to understand; understand what you're going through. Was that too much to ask for?


**Title: They Don't Understand**

**Summary: All you want is someone to understand; understand what you're going through. Was that too much to ask for?**

**Author: Memento Vivere**

**Rating: T for mentions of suicide and depression.**

**Word Count: 732**

**This is dedicated to Jewel (forever noxer), for putting up with everything life has thrown at her. Stay brilliant!**

* * *

They don't understand.

Nobody understands you. Nobody understands what you're going through. They thought that everything was alright; everything was going to be okay.

How wrong they were.

* * *

They don't understand.

You used to be perfect. You used to have the world wrapped around your fingers. Girls used to follow you, with envy and worship on their faces; boys used to eye you, with a mix of appreciation and devotion.

But not anymore.

* * *

They don't understand.

Your life is falling apart. It's difficult to differentiate between reality and nightmares; they're exactly the same.

You want to do something; change something, but you can't. You could only stand there, watching helplessly as your world crumbles to dust.

The wind blows, there's nothing left in that void but yourself.

* * *

They don't understand.

You stand in front of the mirror, examining the girl in the glass. Who is she? She looks like you, but she couldn't be you, could she?

Your dark hair falls in a sleek and shiny curtain, and your eyes always sparkles with happiness. Those full lips of yours are constantly curved into a beautiful smile.

This girl in the mirror has ragged and lank hair, falling limply past her shoulder. Her brown eyes are bottomless and dull, with the hopeless look of someone who has given up. Set in a thin line, her lips betray no emotion.

She couldn't be you, could she? You're supposed to be gorgeous; supposed to be perfect.

But then you realise, with mild surprise, that she is you.

* * *

They don't understand.

Doesn't that drop of red blood look so pretty, shining in the candlelight? Doesn't it, dear?

You take the knife in your hand and slash it across your wrist, watching as more pretty red drops well up. You're barely aware of the pain it causes you, just the dizzy feeling afterwards which sends you into a high.

And you're not ashamed to admit that you actually enjoy those moments. You don't have to think about anything during then, not the nasty stares or the murmurs the students give you every time you walk past, or the horrible dreams that plague you every night.

You just simply exist.

But then the world comes crashing down; the twisted reality's back with a vengeance.

* * *

They don't understand.

Why couldn't they just leave you alone? Why did they have to stop what they're doing to stare at you every time you walk past? Don't they understand?

You're already dealing with the pain of Cedric's loss. He was your first crush, and they're the hardest to forget. It's bad enough that you dream of his dead body every night; you don't need the whispers of gossip to remind you of him during the day too.

_"Look at her, still crying after his death…"_

_"Merlin, can't she get over him already? It's been a few months…"_

_"Such a weakling, isn't she? Walking around, ready to burst into tears any moment. Just like a time bomb!..."_

They never had to deal with such a big blow, had they? They were not the ones who constantly had to put up with their siblings' jeers, were they? They didn't have to to put up with the lies of the rumour mill, did they?

Just because you're a person doesn't mean you have to be labelled.

* * *

They don't understand.

You want to talk about his death to someone, someone understanding. But you realise you can't do that.

Because you're surrounded by fake friends.

You try telling Marietta. She nods and listens, saying she understands. But you can see the lie in her eyes as she agrees.

She doesn't understand.

You try telling Harry. But he just brushes the topic off, and said he was off to meet flawless, clever Hermione Granger who's a hundred times better than you would ever be.

He doesn't understand.

Who are your real friends? Who can you trust?

You don't know anymore.

After all, who'll want to be friends with ugly, weepy, depressive Cho Chang?

No one.

* * *

They don't understand.

You don't know anything anymore. You don't know whether that was reality or a dream; you don't know if they're telling the truth or a lie.

True or false? Reality or nightmare?

That's the killer question, isn't it?

* * *

They don't understand.

All you want is someone to understand; understand what you're going through.

Was that too much to ask for?


End file.
